Divine Concerns
by Ace Trainer Alicia
Summary: Post-Death of Chivalry. Saradomin decides to have a little chat with a rather nooby young adventurer regarding the current World Guardian's choice of deity. Crack-fic, oneshot, not meant to be taken too seriously.


A/N: Hi all, Ace Trainer Alicia here, cross-posting from my Deviantart again. I've felt like writing Runescape fic lately, so here we are with a quick fic. The idea for this little thing kinda hit me randomly, and it isn't meant to be taken too seriously-it's a comedic piece after all. I only hope I've managed to be funny.

Enjoy ^^

* * *

Divine Concerns

"You fought bravely, and saved Sir Owen from a fate worse than death." The god of order's voice was proud. "With your permission, I can teleport you to Edgeville Monastery."

The young man looked thoughtful a moment, and then nodded. "Sure thing. It'll save me some time."

Saradomin waved his hand, and in a flash both he and the youth appeared in the monastery's now-ruined cabbage field. A monk nearby was still weeping over the loss of the cabbages, and so didn't take any notice of the fact that his god was standing right there.

The youth brushed himself off and turned to leave for the bank, but Saradomin spoke up again. "Henry, wait. There is something else we must discuss before you go."

Henry stopped short and turned around, looking a little fazed. "If this is about the Battle of Lumbridge—"

"No, it's not that." Saradomin shook his head. "It's a matter that concerns both you and me… it's about your sister."

"Jaina?" Henry frowned and bit his lip. He hadn't seen his older sister for a week; the last time they were together, it had been at the Duel Arena, where she had repeatedly kicked his ass five ways to Kandarin. Of course, he was a warrior and she was a magician, and she'd been out adventuring for much longer than he had, so it wasn't all that surprising that he couldn't beat her.

His eyebrow raised in suspicion. "What's my sister got to do with you? She doesn't even like you very much."

Saradomin motioned for him to come around the side of the monastery. "This is between you and I—we must be discreet."

Henry did so, still puzzled. Why would Saradomin be interested in Jaina? Sure, they both might be stupidly powerful and multi-talented, but if one were to make a list of everyone in all Gielinor least likely to follow Saradomin, Jaina's name would be at the top of that list—higher, Henry was sure, than even the most devout Zamorakians. He wasn't much of a fan, either.

Once god and human both were in the shadow of the monastery, Saradomin lowered his voice to a near whisper. "You are powerful, young Henry, indeed—but your sister Jaina is even more of a force to be reckoned with."

"I know," said Henry. "We meet up at the Duel Arena a lot, and I only beat her once."

"It is not merely that she is stronger and more experienced than you are," said Saradomin, stroking his beard. "Did you know that the power of Guthix shields her from all godly influence?"

"Why would it do that?" Henry asked. "We aren't Guthixian or anything."

"It's a long story—you should ask her; she will probably tell you herself," said Saradomin. "But that's not what concerns me. What worries me is her choice of loyalties."

Did he mean what god she followed? Ever since the dawn of the Sixth Age, Henry had been rather indecisive about which god to follow. Sure, he'd joined Zamorak's side in the Battle of Lumbridge, but he was hardly a follower of the chaos god. That Bandos guy didn't seem any more appealing than Saradomin did, and he didn't know much about anybody else—though that cute elf emissary by Port Sarim had sure made Seren sound appealing.

Jaina, on the other hand, had rather firmly made up her mind, as Henry had found out when he went to ask her for advice on the matter. "I'm Zarosian," she had said proudly. "Come on, little bro—our side could use some younger blood."

She'd then explained to him who Zaros was and how she'd come to find out about him, though he still wasn't sure he should follow this guy. Sure, Jaina had given him a litany of reasons—mostly about some kind of awesome magic and awesome prayers, but she'd also said something about being part of his great plan: "Why do you think we keep coming back every time we die?"

Jaina might be happy with her stupidly awesome magic and prayers, but Henry wasn't much good with either of those, and he wasn't sure what the reason that Harold Death kept bringing them back to life was. All he really knew was that Zaros was super-powerful, but ambiguous, and that kind of sounded like another Guthix.

Well, that, and that his followers really didn't like either Zamorak or Saradomin. When Henry had asked Jaina to join him in the Battle of Lumbridge, she had shaken her head immediately. "My loyalty takes priority over fun, I'm afraid," she'd said, after he had explained that he'd only joined the battle for fun.

"Why's it a bad thing if Jaina decided to follow this Zaros guy?" he finally asked. "I mean, it's not like she's with Zamorak or anything—"

"Shush! Do not speak the name of the Empty Lord out loud!"

Saradomin realized that he'd raised his voice a little too much, and quickly cleared his throat. "Sorry, I did not mean to shout—and indeed I shouldn't have. Henry, you must watch what you say—merely by speaking the name of that great evil do you give him more power!"

It took Henry a few moments to regain his composure from being startled. "Great evil? Jaina said that Za—that god was neither truly good nor evil."

Saradomin was shaking his head emphatically. "The Empty Lord is an entity so wicked that I was forced to ally with my greatest enemy in order to destroy his accursed empire. I was careful to make sure that the memory of his existence would be erased, so that such an evil could never return to Gielinor… and your sister has willfully chosen to aid in his return."

Henry wasn't sure what to think. He did know about the whole covering-up-the-existence-of-Zaros thing; Jaina had added that to her list of reasons why she couldn't stand Saradomin. On the one hand, if Zaros really were powerful enough to make Saradomin wet his pants—not that Saradomin was actually wearing pants—he'd surely be really good at persuasion. On the other, the Jaina he knew wouldn't follow a god of evil. Especially not after she'd seen the things people like HAM had done in Saradomin's name.

"Not only that," Saradomin continued, "but I believe she has only done so for foolish reasons."

"What do you mean, foolish reasons?" Henry demanded. Sure, he and Jaina had done some dumb things on their adventures, but they weren't that stupid.

Saradomin scratched his beard. "The both of you are human teenagers… and there are some things human teenagers are vastly more prone to do…"

"Take dares?" Henry guessed. "Get drunk at the bar? Pick a fight with really strong monsters?"

The god of order shook his head again. "Remember when the both of you got married?"

Henry felt his heart flutter as he remembered Princess Astrid. They might've only been married for one day, but he still missed her dearly, and every time he went to kill dagannoths, he slaughtered them eagerly, as if to repay them for taking Astrid away from him. Jaina must miss Prince Brand just as much.

Now he was confused as to why Saradomin had even brought it up. "What does Princess Astrid have to do with my sister or Za—that god, anyway?"

Saradomin frowned and looked thoughtful a moment. "Hm… let's cut to the chase. Surely you've heard of the nasty Mahjarrat before?"

Henry had to think for a minute before he got it. "You mean those weird skeleton-faced guys?" He was also thinking of General Moia, whom he'd seen in Zamorak's camp in Lumbridge, but if he remembered correctly, she was only half Mahjarrat.

"They're not exactly skeleton-faced anymore, but yes." Saradomin nodded gravely. "Now imagine that one of them were—how do humans put this?—ah, were railing your sister nightly."

If the concept of a blue screen of death had existed in Gielinor, and if Henry had realized what exactly Saradomin was saying, he would have likely gone into one instantly. Then he would've turned green in the face and run to the nearest bar in hopes that the beer might bleach his brain. And then he would've cursed Saradomin for the mental images leaving him unable to get any sleep for weeks.

Instead, he merely gave the god a blank stare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

For although the young man was just a few months shy of sixteen, and he was growing to appreciate the beauty of women—and, of course, had been married to Princess Astrid for one all-too-short day, and they had had their wedding night—he was still relatively uncomfortable with matters of romantic relationships' more private aspects, and he certainly did not know many euphemisms yet. And he would prefer it to stay that way if possible.

Saradomin hung his head and opened his mouth to give Henry a particularly blunt explanation, but quickly decided against it. It was best that he not scar the poor boy for life; besides, he could always discover what his sister did in her spare time through numerous accidental means.

"No matter. Either way, your sister is making a terrible mistake, and she's not likely to listen to even a god like myself. That's where you come in—I'm sure she will listen to her brother."

Henry stared blankly at him some more. "So… let me get this straight. You want me to tell Jaina that she should stop following the god of her choice… because Saradomin says so? That's totally going to go over well."

"If anyone can open her eyes, it's you, Henry," said Saradomin. "Moreover, despite her… prejudices, Jaina owes more to me than she'll give me credit for. Why, if not for the heroic sacrifice of one of my loyal followers, your dear sister would now be an undead abomination forever doomed to wander the halls of those cursed Barrows over in Morytania!"

Henry wasn't sure if that story was true, but the way Saradomin said it made him sound really, really pompous. He was talking like he personally had saved Jaina, not a guy who just happened to be a Saradominist. Either way, she didn't owe him anything.

"Of course, it's your choice, and you may not be successful," Saradomin went on. "Just know that when all of Gielinor is doomed because your sister toyed with things she knows nothing about, you could've prevented it from happening."

He straightened up the crown on his head. "I must leave you now, young Henry—perhaps I shall see you on the battlefield soon. My followers will, of course, show you no mercy, so be grateful I have been so kind to you. I can only hope that you care enough for your sister to save her from her own ruination."

With that, the god of order vanished, leaving Henry all alone beside the monastery. The youth felt a little dazed from being in divine presence for so long—it almost felt like he'd gotten plastered at the bar again.

He headed towards Edgeville, unsure of what to do next. He certainly didn't think he could trust Saradomin completely, but he didn't know how much of all that stuff about Zaros was true. Should he go look for Jaina now? Where would she even be? Had she really almost gotten turned into a Barrows brother—erm, sister? Even if he did meet up with her, what was he supposed to say?

Besides, there was a ton of other stuff he wanted to do. He could go back to the battlefield in Lumbridge; there were still some divine tears in his bag. There was also going to get a beer or two, or killing stuff, or hanging out with his clan mates, or killing more stuff, or brushing up on his fishing and cooking, or killing even more stuff…

Deciding on Lumbridge for now, Henry figured he would ask Jaina more about the whole Zaros thing the next time he saw her. For now, there was a battle to join in—and the less he had to think about Saradomin, the better.


End file.
